Known another way
by WeasleyQueen11
Summary: Beatrice Prior has a secret. One she's gladly running from without knowing she's running towards it. In a world where Eric isn't just a Dauntless leader, but Tris' older brother: Eric Prior. The monster of her dreams. Tobias has more in common with her than he thinks. Will he pull her back from the edge in just enough time to save her? War doesn't happen in this fic.
1. Sibling meetings

**A/N This is my first Divergent fic, but I am in process of writing another one. So I'll hopefully have two projects to work on. Yay! It would be awesome for you readers to review my material and tell me what you think! I haven't come across this idea before, so I'm really quite excited to see it played out.**

**I'm English, but I'm trying to write this the way Veronica does. American! So some terminology is lost on me. I hope I'm using it right, though!**

**The war does not happen in this fic. Yay! And there will be plenty Trobias fluff moments! Woop. They are the cutest! *fangirls* It will also be a multi-chapter story.  
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**Anyway, I'll let y'all get reading this. Please R&R! But more importantly, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. **

I wake up in a cold sweat. I had a nightmare. One that is always present and haunts me even in my conscious hours. It was of _him._ His frame mightier than mine, cowering me into the corner with the belt hanging loosely in his right hand. Then it hits my pale skin and I give out a shriek of pain. But all he does is laugh at me, and continue with the torture until my body has doubled over in pain. Instead of leaving me there, however, he'd sneak the mirror out of his back pocket and make me see the damage he has inflicted on my body. The bruises and welts would never be in a visible place. After all, he didn't want Mother and Father to find out his sick pleasure activity, or Caleb. Especially not the neighbours.

My torso, back, thighs and upper arms are covered in angry swells of blood and puss – these marks were always caused by the metal belt buckle, the black and blue bruises that also appeared were form the strap. They would take weeks to heal, but even then they wouldn't go completely. I would endure the torture almost all the time; especially when time progressed and I had gotten older. Apparently I had needed sense beaten into me since my 'smart mouth' was starting to show more. This gave my wounds no time to heal, so the scars would end up building and building until the place of impact was covered in them.

I don't look in mirrors, by faction morals, I'm not supposed to. But when I ever get the chance to use the one hidden behind the sliding panel in the bathroom, I always inspect how well they have healed in the two years of his absence.

It is lucky really, that we are Abnegation; where they teach us to be selfless, and therefore I am not obliged to show any of my skin. That is how _he _got away with it. That and always inflicting pain on me when no-one was around, usually taking me out of the house with the same lame excuse of 'helping his friends brother with the re-painting of his room' or 'help with my knowledge on the solar-system for his science project'. It is amazing really; that my parents never suspected what he was doing to their own _daughter. _Or maybe they had but hadn't acted upon it for selfish reasons. But my parents _were not _selfish, they were selfless. So I idly ponder on _why_ I had never been rescued from the hellish nightmare that had robbed me of my childhood and teen years. I tell myself occasionally that no-one had known; that no-one had any reason to know. But that doesn't stop me from silently begging to be saved, to be freed from myself.

It is also unlucky that I am Abnegation, because I am not allowed to be curious or ask questions. I have no idea what happened to him. I didn't go to his Choosing Ceremony like my parents; I faked being ill with a cold so I could miss it. When they came home, he wasn't among the party. Not that I was surprised; he was always an Erudite to me. But that doesn't necessarily say he chose that Faction. Truth is; I haven't been able to get that information for the two years since he left our family, our _Faction_. The topic of him is not allowed in our residence any more, and many of the people our family is linked to steer clear of his name, also.

No that this bothers me; I have never wanted to speak to him, or about him.

The only thing he'd ever get out of me was my wails of pain, and usually, when I was younger, my vain attempts to get mercy.

But when the years stretched out in front of me, the only light I ever saw was _his _Choosing Ceremony. Or _mine. _And since he made that choice pretty easy, I have been safe for two years.

I use this term loosely, though. Because one can never be safe after being dragged through hell by someone who was supposed to be _selfless_; someone who was supposed to have the same blood as me; someone who was supposed to be my _brother. _

He wore a pretty great mask, it seems. As far as I know, no-one ever suspected my brother of abusing me. This makes the mental pain even worse to bear knowing that my torment has never been considered. Not even by the eyes of those closest to me.

This is what makes today such a great day; even though I have been informed of my Divergence and how dangerous it is supposed to be; even though I feel like I have the word branded on my forehead for the whole world to see. Today I finally get to be free. It doesn't matter whether or not he left our faction two years ago; or that I am presumed to be safe without him here. I still sleep in the same bedroom I did when he'd hit me. I still walk past the vacated room he occupied and hear the snap of belt against skin. I still have nightmares. Those nightmares run deeper than physical pain. It's mental. It's in my mind and will not leave me. I am _haunted. _The sooner I leave Abnegation, the better.

Erudite. Abnegation. Dauntless.

Divergent.

I know which I will choose.

* * *

As the bus drives along the uneven road towards the Hub, I start to relive the memories of my soon-to-be old life in Abnegation, and how my decision will affect my parents. I will miss them, that much is inevitable, but that is as far as it will go. I know that in my sixteen years of life they had a hunch of what their own son did to me. They knew. _They knew!_ And yet nothing was ever done about it. I have this eternal grudge towards my family that threatens to break form my chest and hurt them for their unjust decisions. They're supposed to be selfless and they didn't do anything! I want answers that I know I will never get because soon I will be a faction transfer and a traitor to my own blood. Ha! Like they were never a traitor towards _their_ own blood.

A week and a half from now on Visiting Day, they will not bother to turn up to see me, so I will not have the opportunity to ask them about it. The thought radiates pain through my body. But that much is hardly even noticeable from the amount of actual pain I'd endure hours of. I push this aside and try to think lightly.

Soon I will have a new life. One with new friends; new clothes; new morals. I can be different and no-one would even know. To them I could have always been like that, but to me it'll be a new Beatrice. The thought excites me.

When we stop in the city centre and begin towards the biggest building in Chicago, I feel my palms become clammy with sweat. _Why am I so nervous?_ I supposed spending sixteen years in a Faction that teaches selflessness, it has seeped though my skin and controls every living act I do. I feel sick with a sudden realisation. Selflessness was probably beaten into me. _Literally_. I try to push this thought out of my head before it threatens to strangle me and the tears that burn from behind my eyes from falling.

As much as I'd like to admit that the decision to leave has been easy, I'd be lying. No wonder Candor wasn't an option for me. I am acting selfishly just by leaving everything I have ever known behind. I can imagine my Fathers face turn into a deep frown, and the contained anger within him spilling out when his daughter chooses a life without him. As much as I love him, he was never there to recue me. If only he knew, or acted to defend me, maybe my decision would be different. But then I realise I'm lying again, because I have never been selfless. As much as I try, it isn't as easy as it has been for Caleb. I am trying to be someone I'm not in Abnegation. I'd rather just be Beatrice, the Divergent. And I'm going to take that opportunity whether it goes against my faction morals or not. Even though being something as huge as Divergent scares the hell out of me.

Once we've entered the room where our entire futures are made, we're put in alphabetical order. So I am placed next to Caleb and Danielle Pohler. The names are read out in reverse order, so I make my choice after my brother. As the Ceremony begins, Marcus Eaton starts to talk about the morals of all five factions, and why we are here today. That we have to make the _choice. _But what's the freedom in choosing when there are five possible places we end up? Six is you include the Factionless.

My hands begin to shake so much that I have to hold tight to my shirt to calm them. Even though my choice is made I am still a nervous wreck. I will leave one place to fill a missing gap, only to find a new hole has formed without my parents. I almost miss Caleb's name being called as I start to think deeply into the situation.

I shouldn't feel this bad for leaving. It isn't like any of them came to my rescue. At least my brother will stay in Abnegation, this I'm sure of. But when I see him take the knife from Marcus's hand and slide it across his palm, the heavy crease between his eyebrows suggest otherwise. And just to prove my theory, his blood drops into the bowl full of water making it even deeper shade of red.

My brother. My _selfless_ brother just chose Erudite. My brother is a traitor. This is something I cannot comprehend

I suddenly forget to breathe. The Prior family isn't as great as I thought. One brother abuses me, and the other scolds me on every occasion he gets and ends up being a traitor.

I almost miss my name being called. I look over at him to see him giving me a nod, as if he knows what I'm about to do. The irony isn't lost on me. He knows what I'm about to do here, but didn't know what had been happening to me behind closed doors! Or had he? I may never know.

I begin to move my feet slowly towards to podium where I will choose the rest of my life. It is harder to think about leaving Abnegation now knowing that my parents will have no children at the end of the day. I don't know why I find myself caring so much; they didn't save me when they needed to, even if that sounds selfish. It makes me even angrier to know that _they knew _and didn't help me.

I grit my teeth and slide the metal blade down my palm. Funny, I don't remember taking the knife off Marcus.

And all too soon I find myself hovering my hand over the burning coals; hearing my blood sizzle in the yellow and orange flames.

I am now Dauntless. I am now a traitor.

I am selfish. I am brave.

* * *

We are standing on the roof tops. Somewhere below me Rita's sister is lying dead on the rail tracks. It has just occurred to me that even the Dauntless-born initiates aren't safe. But I push that aside and focus on the now.

My elbow is pierced from the jump onto the rooftop, but no blood has risen from the wound. It's not like I need anymore. I have enough to last a lifetime.

"Oh, will you look at that! A _Stiff_ is actually showing some skin"

I turn around to see Peter, the Candor boy, smirk down at me. I quickly shove my sleeve back down.

Of course, being the only Abnegation transfer I am bound to be taunted.

I don't say anything to him; I just listen harder to what Max has to say.

"We have to _jump?" _one of the female transfers asks horrified. I wonder idly why she's so surprised. We just jumped off a moving train. This is Dauntless life. If she doesn't know what to expect, why is she even here?

I walk up to the ledge and look down. There is nothing there but a black hole. But the Dauntless aren't that sick, they wouldn't let us fall to our deaths so there must be something down there. I use that information to make this easier on myself before I change my mind. I quickly grab the hem of my shirt and pull it off over my head, then balling it up I turn to my left and throw it at Peter.

I don't think. I just bend my knees and jump.

For a while, I am in a state of nothingness. Like a bird in flight. I feel infinite; free. Like I was never beaten by my brother and the mental scars don't haunt me. But all too soon I crash back down to reality.

It was a net. I hit a _net. _I almost laugh with irony. But the laugh seems to leave my lips, and it crosses the border to hysteria. I just jumped off a building! Maybe I do belong here.

Turing on my side, I suddenly feel the effects of my crash-landing. I feel like the wind has been thrown out of me: my limbs ache and I struggle to breathe. But the adrenaline puts all these feelings at bay and I grin like an idiot.

I just jumped off a building!

Then I feel a pair of hands grip my arms, helping me toward solid ground. I accept without a seconds pause. Once I'm levelled out, I feel him release his grip on me. I look and am momentarily lost for words.

The person who helped me, if in fact, a young man not much older than me. His hair is almost back, and his eyes are a piercing blue. Like the ocean, but I wonder if they change with his mood.

"Thank you," I say quietly, trying not to stare too long. He is handsome. _Very _handsome. But I only just arrived, and my intentions weren't to find a boyfriend. He nods and smiles at me.

"Can't believe it," I hear someone say behind me. I turn around to see a tall female with three silver rings though her right eyebrow. She is pretty, I'll give her that. "A stiff, the first jumper? Unheard of"

She is pretty, but naive and one of those characters that judge a book by its cover. Just because I am from Abnegation, doesn't mean I have to act as selfless and well..._stiff_ as them.

It seems that the young man who helped me up has been reading my thoughts; "There's a reason why she left them, Lauren." He says, and I feel surge gratitude towards him. But an unsettling feeling occurs in my stomach. Surely that was coincidence, he can't possibly know about me. I mean, why would he? I haven't even met him before. My heartbeat rises. _What if he does know?_ I tell myself that I'm being stupid because this man doesn't look familiar to me. The only reason he would, would be if he was from Abnegation. This looks unlikely. I breathe deeply and tell myself to forget about it and pull myself together."What's your name?" The boy asks, pulling me back to reality.

"Um..." Come on, Beatrice! A new Faction, a new start! I would pull myself to say "Beatrice" but I don't want constant reminders of my now past life. Plus, it seems to dull here. I need something striking.

"Think about it," The boy prompts, the corner of his mouth turning upwards. "You don't get to pick again"

He's right, of course. I could be remade here.

I look up and stare at him straight in the eye. Readying myself for this new life.

"Tris," I say firmly."Tris," the girl - Lauren – says and tells Four – the boy who helped up – to make the announcement. I see Dauntless coming out of their hiding to whoop and congratulate me. It feels weird to be the centre of attention, and I suddenly find myself disliking it.

"Welcome to Dauntless," Four says, planting his hand on the small of my back. I feel electricity run through me. It is a weird sensation. One that is gone as quickly as it came as Four pulls his hand away.

* * *

We are making our way to the cafeteria. Four and Lauren have just informed us of our initiation into the world of Dauntless. We will lose four initiates at the end of stage one. This feeling is unsettling. I am the smallest of the bunch, and the only Abnegation transfer. The odds are not in my favour.

As we enter the cafeteria, people stop and stare at us for a long moment. A moment where I hold my breath even without being aware of it. Then they all begin to clap their hands and whoop at us. It seems that they give Dauntless transfers quite the welcome. I release the breath.

Christina and I make our way over to a partially empty table, followed by Four. I wonder idly why he has decided to join us. We're just two transfer girls. Surely he has other friends? Maybe a girlfriend? I realise I am stalling myself. I feel nothing by flattery that he has sat with us.

I look at the food in front of me. It looks like some kind of meat that you place inside a bun. Four informs me that it is called a Hamburger and would taste nicer with red sauce he has placed in front of me. Christina is completely mind-blown that I have never had – or hear of - a Hamburger before.

"Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary" I tell her, and see out of the corner of my eye, Four suppress a smile.

The doors to the cafeteria open and it suddenly becomes eerie quite. I look up to see what the commotion is about and stop dead on my train of thought.

I drop my food onto my plate and my hands become dead weight. I see Christina and Four giving me strange, concerned maybe, looks.

I feel like I'm about to cry, but there is a lump in my throat threatening to choke me instead.

Then, as if to make this whole ordeal worse, he comes over to our table. I was hoping he'd just move on. I was actually hoping that he was _dead_. No-one told me what had happened to him. I just assumed he was either dead or an Erudite transfer. If I had even the faintest idea that he was Dauntless now, I would never have considered it a faction of choice. But that's cowardice, and maybe an outright lie. I moved from Abnegation to get away from two things: one was because I was not selfless enough and I wanted to be more me than anything else, and the other was to get away from the nightmares of my past. The nightmares created by the person standing in front of me now.

I keep my stare locked on the table, hoping he doesn't recognise me. But obviously he will; I have not changed in two years. He would actually know me better than anyone, and not in a good way.

"Well, well, well," he begins, tapping his foot on the ground the way he did before a beating. I finally force myself to look up. His face hasn't change; neither has the scowl he wears now. But he has grown his hair and pierced a large section of his face. I also see that he wears a belt. And I involuntary wince form the memories. He never used to always use a belt. He'd use his fists and feet, but that was his weapon of choice and it makes me feel sick looking at it.

"I heard a Stiff transferred this year, but I never imagined it'd be _you."_ he snarls at me, but I keep my gaze locked on him anyway. I'm not weak. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not.

It's ironic how he insults me with "stiff" when two years ago he was one himself. But I'm not surprised. He doesn't have a decent bone in his body.

"I was hoping you were dead" I spit back, surprised by how much venom six words can make. He gives me a funny look, and then slams both his palms on the table in front of me making Christina recoil back and gasp slightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Four giving us a wary look. Like he knows what Eric is capable of. I see his eyes shift to mine, and the concern etch across his face. I would ponder why, but I have other problems right now.

My eyes go back to him and stay there.

"I will break you," he whispers. It would have been better if he had shouted it, that way I wouldn't feel so eerie about his attitude right now. I am vaguely aware that the Cafeteria has stayed quite. I wonder how much they have heard from this little chit chat.

"I'd like to see you try," I retort, because I would. He may have beaten me, abused me, robbed me of my childhood. But one thing he hasn't done is break me.

I square my shoulders and set my mouth into a hard line. I will not be broken. I will not, I will not, I will not.

"We'll see about that," he claims, then stomps back out of the hall. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I had been holding. I can be brave, but I have a lot to overcome just yet.

"Who was that?" Christina asks, looking from me to Four, then me again. I haven't moved my gaze from the door he just exited from, but I can feel their gazes on me. In fact, I can feel everyone's. Before I have chance to answer, Four does it for me.

"That was Eric. He's a Dauntless leader," He informs Christina for me, but I find myself needing to explain the little scenario that had just played out in front of them. I finally remove my eyes from the door and back to them. They are staring at me expectantly. Even if I did want to lie, Christina's trained eyes would rat me out. Stupid Candor.

"How do you know him?" Four asks. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

"That was Eric Prior," I say, noticing Four nod and Christina's blank face.

"He's my brother"


	2. I will not be broken

**A/N Wow guys, I have so much positive feedback from just the first chapter! 11 favourites, 21 followers and 15 reviews! not to mention the 309 people who also viewed it, as well. Thank you so much! Eeek. I had a feeling the plot was going to be a good one, but I didn't think people would love it as much as they do! **

**But, as every author does, I re-read my work again probably another five times and I found lots and lots of spelling mistakes. I am sorry if these annoyed you, because they certainly annoyed me! But I wrote chapter one when I was tired and I was so excited about posting it I thought I had checked over it enough to post. But obviously not :/**

**A warning: the events in these two chapters have been pretty much book-like, which is what I want, but they will go off during the course of the story. Eric and Tris being related will change events. I will also be using some of Veronic Roth's actual dialogue, like I have in this chapter, but mostly I have read what she wrote and tried to put it down in my own way. **

**Anyway, here is the much anticipated chapter 2! Enjoy guys, and please R&R! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. **

**Chapter 2**

There is silence at first; I presume it is of Four and Christina contemplating my prior relationship with Eric. I doubt they saw that coming.

Eric Prior, my brother. My _abusive_ brother.

Hell, _I_ never saw it coming. Now that he's left I have had time to think about what has just happened. Earlier I told myself that I was never really safe in Abnegation even without Eric, because I was still haunted by my past. Truth it, I was safer there than I am now, but it should be the other way around. I changed Factions to get away from my old self; I left the remainder of my family for it. But now it feels like I did all that in vain.

I'm not safe anymore.

_No matter where you go, you cannot escape your past. _I read this once in my Lower Levels Philosophy text book. Back then I had some light to cling to; my Choosing Ceremony. Light I thought I had claimed for good until about five minutes ago. But this is obviously not true. Eric is here in Dauntless. Here as a leader. He has authority over me whether I like it or not; I could end up reliving my past any time now. I just hope I find it in me to escape this time.

One thing I do know is: I will not let him break me.

"Tris? _Tris? _Are you there?" I feel Christina poke my shoulder and suddenly realise that she must have been trying to get my attention for some time now, but I've been too in my own head to notice.

Before I respond, I find my eyes lock with Four's. Why do I feel the need to look at him? I've known for thirty minutes at most. Even so, I feel electricity pull at me at his close proximity. I shake my head. If my parents saw me now, they wouldn't recognise me at all. They wouldn't recognise Eric, either.

I force back the tears.

"Yeah?" I respond, but I know what she'll ask me: something about Eric, maybe, or how I'm feeling. One thing's for sure, though, she doesn't know what he did to me, and I probably won't find myself telling her anytime soon. But with her Candor eyes, she'll figure it out soon enough. It's not reassuring, but it's the best I can do for now.

"Are you alright? You seem a little...shaken" I look down and notice that she's right. If I expect to last here with Eric in charge and monitoring my every move, I need to be able to control my emotions.

I push my food away having lost my appetite and shove my hands under the table; wringing them together as to steady them. The movement didn't go unnoticed my either Four or Christina, though.

"Yeah, I'm..." I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat, "I'm fine. I'm just not hungry anymore. Seeing Eric again has...yeah" I'm not sure either of them understands what I'm saying, but they don't press the matter and I'm grateful.

* * *

After we have eaten, the transfer initiates make their way to Chasm again where we'd be meeting Four. I walk there with Christina, receiving strange looks on the way. Most of Dauntless much have been talking about the encounter I had with Eric not so long ago. It was probably out of the ordinary to see him have such close ties with a Stiff. That's where he went wrong. People knowing he has something to do with a stiff will crush his authority. I smirk to myself. When this storm passes, I'm going to get justice for what he did. I am just one step closer to it.

I'm going to ruin him, before he ruins me.

I'm wondering if Four or Christina will mention my blood tie with him. Some part of hopes so, since it will crush him and give me leverage. But the other part doesn't like this so much. I don't want reminders of what he did to me, having the whole compound know the he's my brother wouldn't exactly let me live peacefully.

I want to be known another way.

I know I'm thinking too much, but I can't help myself. There is so much to think about now that I know that truth about Eric. I decide to leave my thoughts for later, then I can really create a strategy for how I'm going to get through Dauntless initiation with him being so close to me again.

"Attention transfers!"

I am again knocked out of my train of thought, by the one person I would like to personally kill myself.

"For those you who don't know, my name is Eric" he skims the crowd of us, then smirks in my direction. I'm guessing that's because his sentence is ironic; I probably know him better than anyone else here, and he wants to remind me why. I know what he's doing. He wants me to relive the torture again, like I have never been able to escape from it at all. He truly has no mercy. No good bone in his body. What went wrong with him?

"I am one of the five leaders of Dauntless, and here to oversee you initiation into our compound," he's still staring over the nine of us, like he's daring us to talk back to him about this piece of information. I wonder if they'll realise that he's sadistic during our initiation, "here, we take the initiation process _very_ seriously" then his eyes lock with me, and I can't pull myself away. I feel the familiar build in my chest like a dam ready to explode – which is exactly what I have wanted to do ever since we talked in the dining hall. He wants me to be scared out of my wits. He wants me to run for the hills, to not make it through this next stage in my life. Now I know he's going to be there every second of every day, watching like a hawk, an unfed predator he'll expect me to give up. His words might be some kind of inspirational speech towards future Dauntless, but I know they're directed at me. A warning of what he has in store for me. But he's not running me out easily.

I'd rather be dead than Factionless.

"Some ground rules: you have to be in the training room by eight o'clock every day. Training takes place every day from eight to six, which a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six," he stops suddenly, his eyes not leaving mine still. Will he beat me again now that I'm going to be in his presence for my whole life, assuming that I get past initiation that is? I swallow hard. I realise that he could do it, if he still takes pleasure out of my pain. No-one would have to know, and compared to him I am even smaller and fragile that I want to believe myself.

Eric never sexual abused me, which I'm grateful for. But I'm not grateful for everything else he put me through. Since he started beating me at eight years old, I have had a fear of close contact with anybody. Even my family, but we'd never be expected to do anything that involved touching the other in Abnegation, so I was lucky. But I also have trust issues. I can't trust my family, for obvious reasons, I still believe that they could have saved me if they had tried to uncover the truth.

I'm hoping this new start will still happen. I can make new friends; Christina seems nice enough, although I have a feeling she'll judge me for my size. But I've never had a friend before, and one day I might be able to trust her. I cling to this thought as I listen in to what Eric has to say sexr.

"You will also be able to have some free time off after each stage of initiation. But, under any circumstances, are you not permitted to leave the Dauntless compound at anytime unaccompanied. There will be consequences for any who do," and again, I know he's directing this at me. He's probably expecting me to pay a visit to Mother and Father, or Caleb in Erudite now that I know he's here. He's expecting me to run because I'm scared, which I am. It's inevitable that I am, he's the monster of my dreams.

Eric leads us away from the Chasm, and I suddenly realise that he wasn't alone through all that. Four is standing beside him, looking like his crony. But somehow I don't believe he is one, and I have no idea why. He seems too wary to have any sort of relationship with Eric apart from his professional one. I'm probably only making this assumption up because I'm a suspicious person, but I find myself hoping that Four doesn't share the same views as Eric. The two Dauntless that I know - sadistic adrenaline junkies, or ones that value bravery and courage for what it is - I hope he falls into the latter.

We stop at the end of a dark and damp hallway somewhere in the underground puzzle map that is the compound of Dauntless; there is a door to my right and Eric is leaning against it, one foot at the back of the door and with his arms crossed. He posture unnerves me. Four takes his place beside him; expression blank and his eyes hooded over. I know that attitude; I use it all the time as a way to shut myself out from the world, and I do it because of my secret. I have a hunch that he has something to hide just like I do.

Eric isn't exactly tall, but the way he holds himseelf gives off that impression. Even so, he towers over me, with his now broad shoulders and heavy feet. I feel like I'm a small child again, and I don't like it. I don't, I don't, I don't.

"Behind this door is the room where you will be sleeping for the next few weeks. When you enter, you will notice that there are ten beds and only nine of you. We had anticipated in more arriving to the compound, but as things turn out we have nine."

"But we stared with twelve," someone interrupts him – Christina. In knowing her for the hour or so that I have, I have noticed that she does in fact speak her mind most of the time – apart from the topic of Eric – but she'll really need to stop doing that here, because her Candor attitude will not be tolerated by him. That I know. If she doesn't want to get hurt, she's going to have to learn to maintain a less forward attitude. I find myself worrying for her.

"Yes, but there is always one that doesn't make it to the compound. I'm sure you would have witnessed that on your arrival," he retorts back, picking at his oily skin. I watch as his mouth piercings pull apart when he talks. The hole is creates in its wake reminds me of the abyss that he created around me. The one I have yet to climb out of.

The way he talks about losing transfers sounds sick. Like they sit in their office placing bets on how many will die on their way to the compound, like it's some kind of sport. He truly has no conscience.

He shrugs when he gets no response, probably bored with us already, "Anyway, in the first stage of initiation, we keep the Dauntless-born and transfers separate from each other, but that doesn't mean you will be evaluated separately. Your results will be combined with theirs at the end of initiation, and your rankings for all three stages will determine where you come on the leaders bored. Don't forget, you are at a great disadvantage already, the Dauntless-born have lived in the compound for sixteen years. They know how to do most of the things you be expected to do throughout the course of your initiation, so I expect-"

"Rankings?" the Erudite girl questions him. She has mousy-brown hair and a small frame, just like me. But nothing about her posture shouts determination. I have a feeling she won't last long, "why are we ranked?"

Eric smiles at her, but I know it has wicked intentions behind it, "Your rankings serve two purposes. The first is that it determines what job you can take. There are only two desirable potions available," he states, waiting for us to flinch, but when we don't he carries on, "and the second purpose is that only the top ten initiates will become members" he finishes, taking pleasure in the silence he left in his wake, but I feel sick. It was going to be hard enough with Eric watching over me every stage of initiation, but even harder now that I know only ten can make it through. I think I'm going to have to pray for a miracle.

"What?" many of the nine of us ask in unison, voicing my thoughts.

"What I mean to say," He begins, "is that there at eleven Dauntless-born, and nine of you. Four will be cut at the end of stage one, but you already knew that. Then the remainder will be cut after the final test." He concludes, like that makes it all better. Even if I make it through stage one, at the end six of us will not be members. Being a Stiff gives me more of a disadvantage than I thought.

"But that isn't fair," the broad-shoulder Candor girl claims – Molly, "If we had known-"

"Are you telling me that if you had known about our initiation tactics prior to choosing us, then you wouldn't have done it? Do you realise that to do that you are acting out of cowardice? That is precisely why Dauntless was created, to _stop _the cowardice. If you aren't cut out for the next few weeks, but all means leave. You know where the door is" Eric snarls back, and I find myself open-mouthed at his speech. He has the cheek to talk about cowardice, when he's a coward himself? _Last time I checked, it isn't brave to beat your sister up. _This is what I want to say to him, but if I want to be known another way I can't shout this out in front of the other eight transfers and Four. I especially don't want him to find out, but I'm not entirely sure why yet. And even if I did have the nerve to, rumours spread like wildfire here. Odds are everyone would know by dawn.

I keep my mouth set into a hard line.

"What happens to the people who are cut?" Peter asks from the back of the crowd. Eric advances on him, bringing his face in close proximity to his. He's also just as intimidating as I remember, "You will leave the compound, of course, and live with the Factionless" he lets the words hang over our heads, although he's still staring hard at Peter.

I wasn't planning on leaving the compound with Eric here, nor was I planning on losing initiation. But now I have more of a reason to try harder. If I fail I will have to do one of the things I was afraid of: live Factionless.

_No, _I tell myself, _this is not going to happen. Not at all. _

Eric pushes the door open to our dormitory, "You chose us," he says. "Now we choose you"

Nothing like Eric making some 'inspirational speech' in front of the new initiates, and then leaving us on a cliff-hanger sentence, but before I have chance to step in, he grabs my arm and pulls me back. I try to pry his grip away from my wrist because the pressure is uncomfortable, but he just increases it. "Let go of me, Eric!" I hiss, noticing that Four is standing on the other side of the threshold like he would come to my aid if needs be, and the other initiates have stopped to watch what's happening.

"Aw, come on Stiff. Can't your brother wish his sister good luck?" he says back, in mock-concern. And suddenly my hand goes limp and my body stiffens. He's patronizing me! After all this time he hasn't change, but of course, why would he? I start to pull my hand away from his grip that I know it'll bruise by tomorrow. I don't like him touching me. I don't, I don't, I don't.

I'm not safe anymore.

"No," I state, so he knows that he doesn't control me anymore. "We may have the same blood, but you are _not_ my brother. Now let me go!" and he does, to my surprise. But his face is set into an amused expression. _What an idiot, Tris! You just gave him the reaction he wanted! _"We'll see about that," is all he says, and then he lets go of me and walks out into the hall, but I'm stood frozen to the floor and my body will not move. Four looks at me one last time, and then also leaves.

_"We'll see about that," _Eric has now said this twice to me today. I have no doubt that he will stay by his words. I swallow hard. The initiates now know he's my brother. Most of the population in the compound will have found out by tomorrow. I don't know if I can take this.

"_Brother?_" someone asks followed by laughter from others, but I'm too dazed to recognise who, "You better not get favouritism, Stiff. Or I'll get you for it! Oh wait. You'll probably be out by stage one, anyway."

Peter. Peter is the one taunting me. Stereotypically judging me on my background.

"Just because he's my brother, doesn't mean we have to like each other," I retort back, pulling myself back to reality, and then before he can reply I find my legs making their way to the door and out into the freedom of the Compound.

* * *

I have always liked showers. In Abnegation, I couldn't spend longer than necessary in them because they were built for hygiene purposes only, anything else would be considered self-indulgent.

The hot water caresses my body, releasing the tension that has built up in me throughout the day. I grab the body scrub and quirt in on my hand, then rub them together to form a soapy substance. When I shower, I usually run my hands over my scars to look at how they've turned out and which ones are worse than others. The worst one I have is on my back; it runs from the middle of my spine right down my right hip. I take a single finger and run it down as much as I can reach; it's uneven and pale looking. Ugly dents are cover it from being hit multiple times with the metal belt buckle. It's safe to say that my back was Eric's favourite place to hit. It's good that it's situated where it is, because even in Dauntless clothing I wouldn't have to show it off.

I wonder if I will show anyone my scars, or if it'll be something that I keep to myself. I can imagine I'll do the latter because I am not only embarrassed about them, I am also ashamed. Ashamed that my brother was able to do something like that to me. What if I was able to get away? But I know this isn't true. Everything's so guarded in Abnegation, that I wouldn't have been able to have that option even if I wanted it.

Selflessness, like everything else, has it's pros and cons.

Then my mind wonders to the one thing I have been dreading to think about all day.

_Eric._

Just the thought of his name brings tears to my ears, but I here I can cry because I know I will not be heard. Here I don't have to worry about anything or anyone because I am isolated from the rest of the world. Here is like my Haven, but even those don't last.

Tomorrow is our first day of initiation; where people will know I am Eric sister, where I can learn how to defend myself.

Today was supposed to be the beginning of a new life. And it still can be if I get through the obstacles in my way.

I am now Tris Prior, the Divergent.


	3. Inked

**A/N. Hey guys! Sorry for the late update! Christmas has been hectic, but also fanfastic! Hope you all had a good New Year! **

**This chapter may not be my best, but the drama I have written for the story doesn't come in until later, so hang in there, folks! In the chapters following, time will speed up because the good things I have planned take place during the second stage of initiation. Eeek. I'm so excited to post them! I still hope you like this chapter, though! R&R with your thoughts!**

**I can't believe how much popularity this story has gotten! I'm glad many of you like my original idea! I love each and every one of you! Your feedback really means a lot to me. I'm sure any author would say that.**

**Throughout this story, Tris will continuously debate with herself whether or not her family are good people since they never helped her out of the nightmare with Eric. Just thought I'd warn you now since it pops up frequently. **

**I'm sorry in advanced for any spelling errors. I usually make lots and never come across them when I re-check the written chapter. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 3:**

I walk into the cafeteria the next morning and find that the news of my blood tie with Eric has in fact spread - just like wild fire. I can't shake the uncomfortable feeling I get when I know the Dauntless are staring at me - sizing me up. They're probably wondering if I'm anything remotely like the beast Eric is, and of course I'm not, but I doubt they know that. I want to show people that I'm not. In fact, I have this sudden urge to scream at the top of my lungs, _Eric Prior is my brother and he beat me! _Now_ see how much of a coward he is. _But, of course, I don't. That could possibly be the stupidest thing I could do here, the reason I left was to begin a new life, not dwell on my old on. But all I do is dwell.

I have this strange feeling that Eric will make an announcement telling the Dauntless exactly just what he did to me, and how I was too weak to stop him, therefore making me a coward. But am I really the coward here? Picking on someone who obviously isn't as strong as you – beating them to a pulp knowing that they couldn't go for help. _That's _being a coward.

"Morning _stiff," _I turn and see Eric smirk at me before he heads off to the table shared with Max and the other three Dauntless leaders. I sigh, not bothering to respond back to him. I know he's not going to leave me alone now, so there really isn't any point.

I head for the table shared with Christina and other initiates and have yet to learn the names of, not eating as much as I'd like to. Even though I know it's stupid to not get as much energy stored in my body as I can, seeing Eric brings up unwanted feelings. Something along the times of being so terrified I want to be sick.

"Why aren't you eating anything?" Christina asks me, "Wait, don't tell me. They also didn't serve _Cornflakes_ in Abnegation?" she asks me with a wink, and I shake my head at her but can't seem to fight off the small twitch of a smile that pulls on my lips.

Maybe Christina could become a good friend.

After breakfast I begin to regret not eating more than a few mouthfuls of cornflakes. Four had us shooting with a small nine mil hand gun before, which was easier than I expected. I managed to hit the target, and I was the only one. But now we're learning the techniques needed for hand-to-hand combat. I'm not the strongest person to begin with - I'm short and slim, with small shoulders and weak arms. My frame completely contradicts one needed for a fighter- not eating much this morning disadvantaged me in many ways. After lunch we'll be putting theory to practice – using what we've learnt and placing them on a punch bag. I shiver looking at them; black, hard leather with a rough surface and thick body. It isn't going to be the easiest to knock around. So much for starting off easy.

I head down to the cafeteria with Christina, an Erudite boy named Will, and a Candor boy called Al. We pass the tattoo parlour and I know what I want to do after my first day of initiation – get a tattoo. Once I'm inked, I won't be so much Abnegation anymore. I'll be marked a Dauntless, therefore marking my new life. I smile and decide to share my plan to get a tattoo with my new friends, who are quick to accompany me later on today.

Heading down to our usual table I'm quick to pick the food from the trays at the middle of table and place them on my plate. Practicing the hand-to-hand combat Four taught us on the punching bags will use up a lot of my energy, which I don't have a lot of anyway. So eating the pork they're serving will build up my strength. I'm going to need a lot of strength from now on.

* * *

I'm in the middle of trying to handle my body punching the leather bag in front of me when Four stalks over and stands in front of me; arms crossed, posture up-right and intimidating. I try not to think about it too much. That he's just another person I see daily who isn't my instructor and doesn't make me feel like I'm about to combust, or melt, or burn like a witch at the stake.

"You have a small frame," be begins, walking over to me and placing his hand over my torso. His long fingers almost cover the width of my stomach, making my heart beat faster, "so you should keep tension here, and use your knees and elbows. They'll prove to be the stronger parts of your body." His eyes lock with mine for a few seconds before he decides to take his hand from my stomach and walk to check the progress of the other initiates. I stand there is a daze. Not only was it inappropriate for an instructor to physically touch his trainee where he did, I also didn't feel as scared as I usually do when another person touches me. It doesn't matter if it's my leg, or a brush of the shoulder, I always flinch. But sometimes about Four makes me feel protected. This is completely absurd because he seems torn between wanting to protect me and terrify me. One thing's for sure: I shouldn't trust anything yet. I was smart enough to get an Aptitude for Erudite, and I have common sense. Nothing here can be trusted.

I blink a few times then come back to the present. I take Four's advice and start again using my elbows and knees. This does prove to help, but only in small doses. It's strange to use my elbows; the angle is usually off and I get a strange recoil sensation in my shoulder. I don't particularly like this strategy, and I can see myself forgetting all about it in an actual fight. But my knees are quite powerful: I could wind someone badly with them with the right timing. Smack them in their face to make sure they're down then take a blow to their chest which would knock their balance, then kick them a couple times in the gut to finish them. I have thought so many times about using this against Eric, but he's so much bigger and stronger than me, even when he wasn't a trained up Dauntless leader. He always had this mental, unspoken power over me, too. If I even tried to fight back, I'd get it worse the next beating and he'd make sure I didn't tend to the wounds he inflicted on my body. So I'd usually just lie there in a broken slump, bleeding and shaking.

Without realising it, I'm punching and kicking everything I have into the punching bag, silent tears trickling down my cheeks. It helps to get my anger out, I understand, but I'm glad no-one has realised I've had an emotional out-break. I quickly wipe the tears away and act again and continue to furiously pound all me anger and energy onto the object in front of me.

When our training is over, Four lets us all leave but me. I feel him grab my arm and ask me for a word, I tell Christina, Will and Al that I'd meet them at the tattoo parlour and turn to see what he has to say, "what was that?" he asks as soon as he knows for sure there is no-one within ear shot.

My hearts stops momentarily. He saw me crying! I can't let anyone see me weak, especially _him. _I tell myself it's because he's my instructor and that anything I do from now on will affect the final ranking score. But I know it's so much more than that. "What was what?" I ask him, trying to feign confusion. But I know he's smart enough to see past it.

"Don't play dumb with me Stiff, I saw your tears," he snaps and I try to swallow the lump in my throat, "If you're not cut out for Dauntless, maybe you should just leave?" he states more than asks me, and I find myself slightly surprised by his behaviour. How dare he have the cheek!

"You don't know anything, Four! And if you were half decent, you'd not get yourself involved," I retort and stomp out of the training room leaving a very confused Four in my wake.

Hopefully he'll get my warning; I really don't want anyone involved in this. I can handle myself with Eric. I've been doing so for sixteen years already.

* * *

I find Christina, Will and Al outside the tattoo parlour and make my way over to them.

"Hey, Tris!" Al says, and I manage a smile. "What did Four want?"

Oh damn, I never thought about making up an excuse.

"He was...erm...just telling me how pathetic my combat attempts were." I reply, smiling even more now as to try and pass it off. But I have two Condors in front of me, they'll sniff me out.

Christina eyes me up but doesn't take Al's question or my explanation any further. Maybe she figured out that I didn't want to talk about it?

"Come on, then!" Al says, "Let's get inked!" I nod and follow the rest into the parlour. And not-so-to-my-surprise Eric is there getting what looks like the Grim Reaper on his left bicep. It's hooded figure is walking out of flames, dragging what looks like a begging mother behind him. The Scythe is loosely hung over his felt shoulder, with fresh blood dripping from it. The only colours used are gray, red and orange. The use of gray is ironic to me. I shiver involuntary, and he looks up and smiles evilly at me. "Are you sure you got the right store, _Stiff?_" he taunts me, and I just stand there with a flat – almost bored looking – expression. Maybe without giving him the satisfaction that he is getting to me will make him bored of these dumb games, "I could ask you the same thing, Eric" I don't give him time to reply to me, for I have walked over to the back of the room to examine the rows and rows and bird tattoos. The one that really catches my eye is one with three ravens in flight. They remind me of my family, and no matter how much I may dislike their disloyalty at their daughter, I'm still not ready to let go of them completely. I decided I want these I symbolise the family I left behind.

"Hello, again," I hear a familiar voice say behind me, and turn to become face to face again with Tori. Seeing her immediately brings back the gut wrenching feeling I had when she told me about my Divergence. I have this sudden urge to ask her what she meant by it being 'dangerous', but I know that would be a dumb idea since Eric is only sitting ten feet away.

Tori seems to sense my internal argument with myself, "Not here. Not ever, Tris. I'm sorry, but I've helped you as much as I can." He states and I feel myself go limp at her words.

No more hope.

I turn my attention back to the Raven tattoos, running my fingers over their small wings; I find myself remembering jumping off the Dauntless building and onto the net. How good it felt to be free from the world. How I felt infinite. Maybe I still can, and even though I want the three ravens to represent Mother, Father and Caleb, it can also represent my attempt of freedom, and how it might not all be in vain.

"You want them?" I hear Tori's voice behind me, and I nod at her explaining how I want them going down my collar bone and eventually ending near my heart. I tap the areas I want inked and she leads me over to a chair to begin.

An hour or so later Tori has finally finished inking me with Dauntless blood. I take a look at her work with the small mirror she lends me: The smallest Raven is meant to represent Caleb, mainly because he doesn't have as much meaning in the family status. Then goes my Mother, and I try not to remember what she said to me before our Choosing Ceremony:_ "I love you. No matter what" _her words mean so much more to me than she'd probably ever know. I force any tears I want to shred back. The last, and the biggest Raven is of my Father. He had the most authority in our family, so the Raven in larger, it is also bigger and closer to my heart because I feel like I've disappointed him the most. I remember what he said to us at the dinner table the night before the Choosing Ceremony about Marcus' son Tobias: _"Or his son's betrayal, you mean?"_ he must think I betrayed him, so by having him closer to my heart, I feel like I'm paying him back just a little bit for leaving, even if he never saved me from Eric. He doesn't deserve to have all three of his children leave home.

I thank Tori for her work then pay the right amount of points for the tattoo – the points are a type of currency, and the initiates are supplied with some at the beginning of initiation. Then I head over to Will, Christina and Al to see what they got, but at this point I'm not really taking it in. I feel lighter with the tattoo than I did before it. Maybe it's because it shows a change in me as a person.


End file.
